Hurt

1 June, 11 am

"Ziva?"

His voice was almost gone. Tony tried to gather enough saliva in his mouth to call out her name again but this time he failed. He had never been this thirsty before. Never had his body craved for water so badly that he'd do anything for one drop. He'd give up his Cary Grant movie collection or … yeah … his Magnum PI Limited Edition DVD collection. Maybe even the authentic Magnum PI Hawaiian shirt Ziva had picked up for him on EBay.

Oh God…Ziva

Since they had left her room, he hadn't heard any movement next door. She was a fighter, both physically and emotionally, but the … sounds that had emanated from her cell had been unlike anything he'd ever heard before. Cuts, bruises, gashes and blood were commonplace in his line of work. He'd seen it all. Or, at least, he thought he had. Right now, he was afraid he hadn't. Right now, he couldn't help but imagine the kinds of injuries that could be inflicted on Ziva to make her produce the sounds he'd heard. He didn't want to think about what they had done, how they had left her, or what condition she might be in – but he couldn't help it.

She's stronger than that.

She had to be. Come on, Ziva. Move. Moan.

He had tried to stop the assault. Even as he heard boots hit her body with a soft wet pop, when they seemed to be done using their fists, he tried. His screams had meant nothing to the men. He cursed them. He insulted them. He even pleaded with them. But, no matter what he said, he had not been able to divert their attention from her.

Let me know that you are still alive in there.

His hands were raw from banging against the wall. His feet bruised from trying to kick his way through the wooden door that separated them.

He closed his eyes. Thought of resting for a little bit before trying to raise Ziva again –


1 June, 12 am

-and woke to hear the door open.

He barely had time to realise the fact that he wasn't alone anymore. Hands curled around his arms and pulled him upwards with an abrupt jerk. A long groan of protest escaped his throat while his brain tried to come to terms with being awake and the sudden stream of light that felt like a knife piercing his eyes.

Blink the hurt away.

Not working.

He had nothing in his stomach to bring up but that didn't mean his body didn't try. He heaved, coughed and struggled as he was dragged through the doorway and into…

Shit

Light.

Too much damn light.

Hands curled into his hair and snapped his head up when he tried to protect himself from the glare.

"Say hi to your boss, Tony."

He croaked something. He was pretty sure he had asked where, while blinking furiously to find Gibbs' silhouette. It was too bright. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness of his cell. Tears ran down his face. Too painful to keep them open, he screwed his eyes tight, hoping it would stop the lightening bolt inside his head from completely slicing through his brain.

Gibbs' voice sounded far away. Laced with static, it was desperate and angry.

He had heard his boss angry but could not remember a time when he'd sounded desperate. It was enough of a surprise for Tony to force open one eyelid and try another attempt to locate the sniper in the glare of light. He needed something to make sense.

"-don't-"

Don't what?

Suddenly, he was pulled to his feet - forced him to stand on legs too unsteady to hold his weight. His fingers were uncurled; stretched, one by one, across a wooden bench.

The surface was rough and untreated.

Instinctively he tried to pull away but his captors held him in place. He opened his mouth to ask what was happening. He just wanted to understand …

He let out a scream, his eyes widening only long enough for the white pain that seared through his body to join with the bright light of the sun.

Then it was dark.

When he came to, he was laying face down on the floor of his cell with his fingers held protectively close to his body. He rolled to his side, coughed, then tried to push himself to his knees. In that last clear moment, before his hands pressed against the ground, he thought, "What the hell did I do?"

Then, blessed pain free darkness claimed him again.


1 June, 12 am

His leg really hurt. The agony seemed to ebb and rise like an ocean wave. He didn't want anyone touching it. Not even Abby.

He sucked in a breath and tried not to move. He tried to will his trembling leg muscles to quiet and the blood that was still dripping down his leg to stop.

For a brief moment, he found himself wishing that he really was the Elf Lord. Invincible with God Mode activated and a health bar that never dips beneath a hundred.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, though, another muscle spasm sent a jolt of pain up his leg. He let out a deep groan.

"I'm so so sorry, McGee."

Her voice reminded him that he needed to stay in the real world.

"I have to do this."

Do what? Why would Abby be sorry? McGee couldn't make sense of it until he felt her hand deceptively soft on his leg.

Nonononono

Please God. I'll do anything…

"Your leg has started bleeding again. I have to stop it."

He opened his mouth to protest, but didn't say a word. She was right but he couldn't help shivering at the thought of what she had to do.

She waited, watched him take a deep breath before asking, "Okay?"

It was too dark for her to him nod but he did it anyway. Then, closing his eyes, he prepared himself for the pain.

He felt her loosen the tourniquet - the torn shirt that had been wrapped around his leg after the fall and silently thanked God for the darkness. It meant that he wouldn't have to see how badly his leg really was, or the piece of bone he was sure was sticking out.

It also meant Abby couldn't see his face, or his fear. The fact that she could hear it in his voice was bad enough.

Without warning, she applied a violent twist to the shirt. He managed to swallow the pain filled scream that should have followed but couldn't stop the tears from escaping down his face. The realization didn't do his manly pride any good.

But Abby was there, telling him how Gibbs was going to find them. She promised that Gibbs would make it okay; they just had to hang on.

"He'll make them pay for this, McGee," she said. "You wait and see. Gibbs will take them all down and I will make sure he gets away with it."

Her voice was darker than he had ever heard before and, suddenly, he was glad that she was on his side. In her own way, she was reminding him of all the times she had claimed to know how to kill without leaving evidence. Only, this time, she was serious.

Beloved Abby.

He didn't want her thinking such thoughts. He wanted her all bubbly and huggy again. He wanted her safe and free from trauma.

"But we have to do our part," she continued. "We have to get out of here, McGee."

He nodded again; too tired to tell her that there was no way he could stand let alone climb out of the hole that caged them.

"I'll be back. Soon. I promise."

"Abby, no. Don't.."

Don't what? Don't leave me here alone? Don't risk getting hurt yourself? He wasn't sure what it was he wanted to say. Before he could figure it out, though, another wave of agony slashed its way up his leg. He tensed, held his breath until it subsided, and scratched at the ground.

He missed her hand in his.

"McGee, I think I can climb this."

He couldn't find the strength to ask how or when she had learned to ascend sheer rock walls in the dark. It was easier to accept it as another Abby fact to be filed away with caskets beds, bowling trophies, Goth shirts, and smiling skulls with hearts for eyes.

It was something very…Abbyish.

"I won't be long. I can make it to the top and then figure a way to get you out, too, McGee."

It wasn't right. He should be the one protecting her – not the other way around.

Abby – he thought as he slipped into unconsciousness. I'm sorry…


Tbc